


Requiem

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Introspection, Longing, Mid-Canon, Missing Persons, Music, Nostalgia, Parent-Child Relationship, Slice of Life, Symbiotic Relationship, Transformers Spark Bonds, Undercover Missions, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soundwave contemplates how the war has changed his family, for better or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem

It was very rare now that Soundwave had time off, which made it all the more unexpected when Megatron stopped him from joining the latest flight from base.

“I need to restate something to our all-too-persistent Starscream—and any of the others who may consider opposing me need to _watch_ ,” his leader had explained, expression mild even as his tone took on an edge. Soundwave inclined his helm with cool acceptance, lifting it once the other Decepticons were out of sight.

Oddly enough, Soundwave couldn’t remember the last time he had been left at base by himself. Even now he wasn’t alone, but since there was no jet trine to be terrorized, he may as well take advantage of it.

“ _Rumble, Frenzy, eject. Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, eject_.” He freed them in pairs, enjoying the systematical sight of the similar frames emerging together. There were several symbiotes he hadn’t been permitted to release for far too long a time and seeing them now did his spark—and their bond—a lot of good. Finally, as Autoscout unfolded his wheels and Soundwave set him on the floor, the comm. officer did the math, withholding from the bond how upset he was when he came to his conclusion.

It had been _two and a half vorns_ since he had been entirely empty, since all of his symbiotes had been released at one point in time. For a deployer, that was overwhelming evidence of failure, of being unworthy to carry them. Soundwave almost made a fatally humiliating stutter when Rumble piped up what they were all wondering.

“What’re we _all_ doing out, Soundwave?”

Soundwave didn’t answer at first. He needed time to regain control of himself, but he couldn’t very well do that with his assembly staring at him, expecting instructions. “ _Operation: Downtime. Rules: pending,_ ” he announced. “ _Activities: discreet. Disruption: prohibited_.” Opening a nearby cabinet, he added, “ _Suggestion: read_.”

Rumble, Frenzy, Enemy, and their like immediately began grumbling in pedal tones, but Soundwave silenced that almost instantly by contacting all simultaneously through their personal strands of the bond, warning them not to disobey. After that threat had sunk in, he sent a cautioning strand to Howlback and Garboil, instructing them to keep an optic on the troublemakers just in case any of them decided to try his patience.

“ _Work: essential. Request: good behavior while absent_ ,” Soundwave reminded them as he strode out of the room. His ‘absence’ was only thirty to forty kliks as he searched through his berthroom for a data pad, tallying up the energon the Decepticons had left. Even so, he probed Howlback and Garboil as he walked, relieved to be answered in the affirmative that the others were obediently retreating to separate corners.

When he returned, Soundwave settled in a chair with his back turned to the rest of the room, despite the fact that he felt several pairs of optics on him, silently pleading for anything but silence. He pretended to be interested in the data pad, but he kept his audials open at all times and read the same statistics repeatedly. They hadn’t had an opportunity for this in so long that they very well could have forgotten what simple time together was like.

How had it come to this? Back on Cybertron, he had realized when he’d only had _four_ adoptees that he sorely underestimated how difficult it would be to keep and care for each little one individually. Their first meal together had been a disaster Soundwave still worked very hard to forget, though every so often Frenzy would be the recipient of a cube over his helm and they would be at risk of it happening again. As Soundwave had welcomed more mechanimals to share a bond with him, there had been jealousy and fear and secrets and destruction, but they had gotten through it all.

The war had changed that. They had spent their time clinging to each other, not arguing. It was a race to be the first inside, pressing as close as they could to the back of Soundwave’s compartment so as to feel safest, most shielded. He would have loved them for it if the cause hadn’t been so dire. Gradually this behavior had shifted, swinging too far the opposite way, and they had taken on weapons and upgrades. Each of them, to a capacity, had cruelty forced into them.

What Soundwave had found the hardest, however, were the separations. He could still feel the strands of the bond which never stirred. No one mentioned the absence, but all felt it. At times Soundwave would see Blaster on the battlefield and ache with pride and anger, wanting nothing more than to tear Flipsides and Sundor out of the Autobot and restore them to their real selves, free of their carefully-crafted façades.

Calm and quiet and unified…they hadn’t been so for too long. It was too late to be so.

Soundwave returned his attention to the present, listening to the theatrically loud whispers of Rumble and Frenzy, who were obviously doing their best to obey for fear of consequences but certainly not enjoying themselves. Ex-venting slowly, Soundwave swiveled his chair around, catching the attention of the cassettes, and for a nanoklik or two, he saw how they had been spending their time.

Ravage was scrambling to lift himself from Howlback’s side, where he had been resting. Squawktalk shushed Overkill in a variant of Cybertronian Soundwave suspected was Iaconian; the former had been trying to teach the latter phrases. Glit and Buzzsaw had been discussing a medical data pad they had taken from the cabinet and the artistry of internal workings.

“Boss?” Frenzy prompted.

Saying nothing, Soundwave set aside his data pad, rose and then transformed, sifting through their favorite datatrax. Of course he hadn’t deleted them, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to play them without being judged or taunted. Wryly he recalled the instance he had brandished a blaster at Starscream when the SIC had the gall to _kick_ him when he was in radio mode.

Starscream was being dealt with right now, which left Soundwave free to drop his own façade. He wasn’t sure when or if that opportunity would come again, but he could still hope for it, like he could hope for many things: the war’s end, the lives of the little ones, and reunion with those he’d lost.

For those absent, he turned on their favorite music and he turned it on _loud_.


End file.
